Constructing Spiritual Stability
DALE G. RENLUND
L
et me begin by relating an obscure
­historical event, and then I will draw
out some lessons that can be learned from
this remote maritime misfortune.
In the early seventeenth century, Sweden
was a world power. Sweden’s king, Gustav II
Adolf, commissioned a warship that would
be christened the Vasa. The ship represented a
substantial outlay of resources, particularly the
oak from which the vessel would be built. Oak
was so valuable that cutting down an oak tree
without authorization was a capital offense.
Gustav Adolf closely oversaw the construction
process, attempting to ensure that the Vasa
would fully realize his expectations.
After construction had begun, Gustav
Adolf ordered the Vasa to be made longer.
Because the width supports had already been
built from precious oak, the king directed the
builders to increase the ship’s length without
increasing its width. Although the shipwrights
knew that doing so would compromise the
Vasa’s seaworthiness, they were hesitant to
tell the king something they knew he did not
want to hear. They complied. Gustav Adolf
also insisted that this ship have not s­ imply the
customary single deck of guns but cannons
on three decks, with the heaviest cannons on
© INTELLECTUAL RESERVE, INC.
the upper deck. Again, against their better
­judgment, the shipwrights complied.
Over the course of several years, shipwrights, carpenters, rope makers, and others
worked diligently to build the Vasa. Over one
thousand oak trees were used to complete the
ship. It had sixty-four cannons and masts taller
than 150 feet. To give the ship the opulence
befitting a king’s flagship, several hundred
gilded and painted sculptures were added.
On August 10, 1628, the Vasa began its
maiden voyage. In view of countless spectators, the ship left its mooring directly below
the royal castle in Stockholm. After being
pulled along by anchors for the first several
hundred feet, the Vasa left the shelter of the
harbor. A stronger wind entered its sails, and
the ship began to tip. The Vasa righted itself
slightly, but only temporarily. Before long, as
recorded by an observer, “she heeled right over
and water gushed in through the gun ports
until she slowly went to the b
­ ottom under sail,
Dale G. Renlund was a member of the First
Quorum of the Seventy of The Church of Jesus
Christ of Latter-day Saints when this devotional
was given on 16 September 2014.
speeches.byu.edu1
2 Brigham Young University 2014–2015 Speeches
pennants and all.”1 The Vasa’s maiden voyage
was about 4,200 feet.
The Vasa rested at the bottom of the Baltic
Sea until it was recovered three centuries later
in 1961. It was successfully raised from the
seabed and towed back to Stockholm. Today
the Vasa rests in a temperature- and humiditycontrolled museum in Djurgården, an island
in central Stockholm. I have a model of the
ship in my office at Church headquarters as a
reminder of several lessons that underlie its
short, tragic history.
Despite the Vasa’s magnificent appearance,
the ship was not seaworthy. The alterations in
its construction resulted in it not having sufficient lateral stability to enable safe sea­faring.
Gustav Adolf’s desire for an extravagant status
symbol ruined the design of what would have
been a magnificent sailing vessel, the mightiest
warship of its time. The shipbuilders’ reluctance to speak up—their fear of the king’s
displeasure—deprived the king of their knowledge and insight. All involved lost sight of the
goals of the enterprise: to protect Sweden and
to promote its interests abroad. A ship that
attempts to defy the laws of physics is simply
a boat that won’t float.
For us to successfully navigate our
­mortal sojourn, we also need sufficient lateral
­stability—which is really spiritual stability—to
confront crosswinds and crosscurrents, make
the necessary turns, and return safely to our
heavenly home. There are things we can do to
increase our spiritual stability. There are also
things we can do to diminish our spiritual stability. As our spiritual stability decreases, we
predictably bring consequences on ourselves
that could have been avoided. I will touch
on four matters that help us build spiritual
stability.
Obeying God’s Commandments
The first is obeying God’s commandments.
Just as the Vasa was subject to physical laws—
even if it was designed by a king—we are all
subject to spiritual laws. No one is exempt. We
need to obey these spiritual laws, which we
refer to as God’s commandments.
Imagine if Gustav Adolf had been frankly
informed that building a long, skinny, topheavy ship ignored a physical law related to
lateral stability. Imagine him then saying, in a
sullen, adolescent, whiny manner: “That’s not
fair. I’m the king. I should be able to do whatever I want. You don’t understand.”
Working with the physical laws related to
lateral stability in the ship’s construction might
have felt restrictive to Gustav Adolf, but the
Vasa would not have sunk before its mission
started had it complied with these laws. Instead,
it would have had the freedom and flexibility to
accomplish what it was intended to do.
So, too, obedience to God’s laws preserves
our freedom, flexibility, and ability to achieve
our potential. The commandments are not
intended to restrict us. Rather, obedience leads
to increased spiritual stability and long-term
happiness.
Imagine fighting life’s crosscurrents and
crosswinds without spiritual stability. There is
a reason obedience is the first law of heaven.
Obedience is our choice. The Savior made this
clear. As stated in the Joseph Smith Translation
of Luke 14:28, Jesus directed, “Wherefore, settle
this in your hearts, that ye will do the things
which I shall teach, and command you.”
It is that simple. Settle it. Decide now to be
exactly obedient. As we do so, our spiritual
stability will be greatly enhanced. We will
avoid squandering God-given resources and
making unproductive and destructive detours
in our lives.
In 1980 my wife, daughter, and I moved to
Baltimore, Maryland. Soon after our arrival we
were invited to a ward party at the home of a
member. We were told it was to be a crab feast.
We were excited, but we really didn’t know
what to expect. Our experience with seafood
consisted of trout, canned salmon, and pickled herring. As we came to the ­member’s
Dale G. Renlund 3
backyard, we saw that newspapers had been
spread on picnic tables and steaming bushels
filled with red creatures the size of my fist had
been dumped out on them.
My wife, Ruth, asked, “What are these?”
referring to the red creatures.
We were informed that these were
Maryland blue crabs, which turn bright red
when they are steamed.
Ruth asked, “How do you catch them?”
We were told that early that morning, two
of the brethren had gone to a butcher shop
and purchased a bucket of chicken necks. As
you know, chicken necks look like chicken
and smell like chicken when cooked, but if
that is what you are given for dinner, you will
go hungry. The chicken neck consists of bone,
tendon, and skin.
The assigned men had gone out in a skiff on
the shallow Chesapeake Bay. In water about
eight feet deep, they began the process of
catching a crab. They tied a chicken neck to a
string, dropped it into the water, and allowed
it to settle on the sandy ocean floor. Sensing a
potential feast, a crab scurried along the bottom and grabbed the chicken neck with its big
claw. The men then slowly and steadily began
pulling on the string. The crab held on to the
chicken neck, and just as it was about to breach
the surface of the bay, the crab became agitated
and let go. But by that time the men had placed
a small net under the crab. They took it out of
the water and flung it into the boat. And, voilà:
ward dinner!
Ruth said, “So, that’s it? There’s no hook?
There’s no rod? There’s no reel?”
“That’s right,” they replied.
She said, “The crab could let go at any time?”
“Right.”
“But they don’t?”
“No,” was the reply.
Ruth summed up this newfound knowledge
by saying, “Boy, are those crab stupid!”
If you were writing a pamphlet called For
the Strength of Young Crabs, it would be pretty
short, wouldn’t it? It would say, “Lay off
the chicken necks! They are a trap. Don’t be
fooled.”
There are many chicken necks in the world:
things that look enticing, things that look like
a veritable feast, and things that seem worth
a minor detour. But if we take that detour, we
will, like the prodigal in the parable, experience a fleeting paroxysm of enjoyment followed by degradation ranging from slight to
abysmal and misery ranging from small to
unutterable before coming to ourselves and
recognizing the mistake. The mistake is that
these detours are traps.
We can look at each commandment
­separately and decide whether to obey or not,
­rationalize disobedience or not, or we can
simply settle it in our hearts that we will do the
things that the Lord teaches and commands.
Nothing will increase spiritual stability more.
Nothing will give us greater freedom to accomplish our life’s mission. “Faithfulness and obedience” are not only “the marks of true discipleship”; they are “the requisites of true freedom.”2
Heeding Counsel and Becoming Lifelong
Learners
Second, we need to pay attention and
give heed to counsel we receive from trusted
sources and commit ourselves to becoming
lifelong determined learners. Sometimes we
can become like Gustav Adolf, unwilling to
­listen to counsel from even trusted sources if
that counsel does not conform to our biases
and desires. We can create an environment that
makes others become like the shipbuilders,
fearful of giving their best counsel and advice.
When we fail to invite and heed counsel from
trusted sources, we decrease our spiritual
stability and fall into the trap of building a tall,
skinny, top-heavy spiritual ship—a boat that
won’t float.
President Henry B. Eyring has pointed out
that one of the pitfalls of gaining knowledge
is the development of hubris,3 which is the
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arrogance that can come when we think we
know so much that there is nothing left to
learn. We have all seen this in individuals
who are too certain of their own brilliance.
It is really hard to teach a know-it-all. This
educational hubris can occur in both students
and university professors, in inexperienced
as well as experienced Church leaders, and in
new converts and longtime members of the
Church. It appears that the risk, however, is
greater in those with more education and more
experience.
Mindful of this risk and desirous to be a
lifelong determined learner, President Eyring
said, “I am still a child with lots to learn.
Most folks can teach me something.”4 When
he extended the call to me to be a General
Authority, President Eyring taught me an
important lesson. He said that when he hears
someone tell a story that he has heard before
or use a scripture that he is very familiar with,
he asks himself the questions Why is the Lord
underlining that for me? and What have I yet
to learn from that story or scripture? Likewise,
if we wish to increase our spiritual stability,
we will be willing to learn and we will be sufficiently humble to accept guidance no matter
our age and experience.
On one occasion I was assigned to
­accompany Elder Neal A. Maxwell, then of
the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, to a stake
conference. It was marvelous to be with one
of the most remarkable gospel teachers of this
dispensation. At the conference I gained an
insight into how he had developed and magnified what was undoubtedly a God-given gift.
As we were driving away from the stake center
on Saturday evening, he turned in his seat and
asked me, “What could I have done better to
teach the principles we taught?”
I thought he had to be joking. But he kept
on grilling me until he extracted from me a
comment about some minor thing that might
have been slightly unclear. The next day, in the
Sunday general session of the stake conference,
he clarified that minor thing that I had mentioned. I realized that I was with a humble
disciple of Jesus Christ who welcomed counsel,
was committed to being a lifelong determined
learner, and desired to become better.
How we receive counsel makes a difference
in whether those around us will feel comfortable in giving us counsel. We can become
prickly, cantankerous, and defensive, or we
can welcome the input, knowing it is given
with loving motives and, if taken in the right
spirit, will help us learn and improve.
It really is our choice. We can listen to and
heed counsel given to us by Church leaders,
especially those we sustain as prophets, seers,
and revelators; by parents; and by trusted
friends—or not. We can seek to be determined
lifelong learners—or not. We can increase our
spiritual stability—or not. If we fail to increase
our spiritual stability, we will become like the
Vasa: a long, skinny, top-heavy ship—a boat
that won’t float.
Serving Others
Third, being outwardly directed, caring
about others, and serving others increases our
spiritual stability. It is akin to constructing an
outrigger for a canoe. Such an outrigger dramatically increases the canoe’s lateral stability.
A desire to help others is paradoxically both
a consequence of true conversion and an attribute that helps us remain converted. President
Marion G. Romney stated:
Service is not something we endure on this earth so
we can earn the right to live in the celestial kingdom. Service is the very fiber of which an exalted
life in the celestial kingdom is made.5
Eternity stays in clearer focus when we focus
on others as we seek to help Heavenly Father’s
children in some way. I have always found it
much easier to receive inspiration when I am
praying to find out how I can help another than
when I am simply praying for myself.
Dale G. Renlund 5
We may believe that at some future point
we will be in a better situation to help our
fellowman. In reality, now is the time. Having
this “fiber” of service become part of who we
are is not situational. We are sorely mistaken
if we think that at some future point it will be
more convenient when we have more time,
more money, or more anything to serve others
better. Now is the time to begin. Our spiritual
stability will instantly improve.
My father taught my brother, sisters, and
me that helping others is a duty, a choice that
we make regardless of our own circumstances.
My dad was born in northern Finland, outside
the town of Jakobstad, which is also known
as Pietasaari. He loved Finnish literature,
especially the works of a Finnish poet, Johan
Ludvig Runeberg. Runeberg had also been
born in Jakobstad.
Dad would quote Finnish literature at night
as bedtime stories. These stories were really
rather somber. It seemed to us as children that
the moral of these stories was to fight valiantly
against impossible odds and then die. It was
like listening to the book of Job without the
happy ending.
One of Runeberg’s poems that we heard
over and over told the story of Farmer Paavo.
Paavo was a poor peasant farmer who lived
with his wife and children in Saarijärvi in the
lake region of central Finland. Several years
in a row, some combination of the runoff from
the spring snowmelt, summer hailstorms, or
an early autumn frost killed most of his crop.
Each time the meager harvest came in, his
wife said, “Paavo, Paavo, you unfortunate old
man. God has forsaken us.”
Paavo, in turn, said, “Woman, mix bark with
the rye flour to make bread so we won’t go
hungry. I will work harder to drain the marshy
fields. God is testing us, but He will provide.”
Every time the crop was destroyed, Paavo
directed his wife to double the amount of
bark that she mixed into the bread to ward off
starvation. Poor Paavo worked even harder. He
dug ditches to drain the marsh to decrease his
fields’ susceptibility to the spring snowmelt
and to the exposure of an early autumn frost.
Finally, Paavo harvested a rich crop.
Overjoyed, his wife said, “Paavo, Paavo, these
are happy times! It is time to throw away the
bark and bake bread made only with the rye.”
But Paavo took his wife’s hand and said,
“Woman, mix the bread with half bark, for
our neighbor’s fields have frosted over.”6
Left unstated in the poem was Paavo’s intent
to help his devastated, destitute neighbor.
As I have reread that story as an adult, I
have come to understand a little bit better what
my dad was trying to teach me and my siblings. Regardless of circumstances, we have a
choice. Will we help others or not? We flunk a
significant test of mortality if we do not choose
to help those in need. And, if we do help, we
increase our own spiritual stability. Serving
others allows us to express that fiber of
which an exalted life in the celestial kingdom
is made.
Making Jesus Christ Our Foundation
Fourth, finally, and most important, our
spiritual stability increases in proportion to
the degree to which we establish Jesus Christ
as our foundation. The prophet Mormon
lamented the change that occurred when his
people stopped making Christ their foundation. Of those who abandon the sure moorings
of faith in Christ, he stated:
They are led about by Satan, even as chaff is driven
before the wind, or as a vessel is tossed about upon
the waves, without sail or anchor, or without anything wherewith to steer her; and even as she is, so
are they. [Mormon 5:18]
Without Christ, we are driven like a ­vessel
tossed about upon the waves. We have no
power because we have no sail. We have no
stability, especially in times of storm, because
we have no anchor. We have no direction or
purpose because we don’t have anything with
which to steer.
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If we wish to avoid navigating through life
in a long, skinny, top-heavy ship, we must
make Christ our foundation and seek His
counsel. The ultimate in educational hubris
is to believe ourselves to be so wise that we
do not need to seek direction from the Lord
through the Holy Ghost. Remember, “to be
learned is good if [we] hearken unto the counsels of God” (2 Nephi 9:29; see also verse 28).
Conclusion
In order to face, overcome, and be prepared
for the crosswinds and crosscurrents of life,
we must obey God’s commandments; become
humble, willing, and determined lifelong
learners; serve others; and establish Jesus
Christ as the foundation of our lives. As we do
so we dramatically increase our spiritual stability. Unlike the Vasa, we will be able to return
to safe harbor, having fulfilled our destiny.
Not too long ago, in the central part of the
Democratic Republic of the Congo, Ruth and
I met with a large number of Latter-day Saints
who live in impoverished circumstances. I
asked the assembled congregation, “What are
your challenges?”
There was no response. I asked again. Again,
there was no response. I asked a third time.
Finally, an older man stood slowly and
asked me in all sincerity, “Elder Renlund,
how can we have any challenges? We have
the ­gospel of Jesus Christ.”
Initially I felt like grabbing him and telling
him to look around. They had nothing—no
electricity and no running water. But then I
understood. It is not what they possess that
gives them strength; it is what they know.
Their commitment to what they know gives
them extraordinary spiritual stability. They
keep the commandments. They are determined
to be lifelong learners of spiritual things. They
help each other. And they have Christ as their
foundation.
My dear brothers and sisters, I testify to
you that our Redeemer lives. I know that
Jesus Christ rose from the tomb. I know that
the resurrected Lord, along with God our
Heavenly Father, appeared to the Prophet
Joseph that day in 1820, just as Joseph said.
I know that we are led by God’s prophet on
the earth today, President Thomas S. Monson.
But it is Jesus Christ who directs this work
through His prophet and through others
whom we sustain as prophets, seers, and
­revelators. I know that this is true. I pray the
richest blessings to be upon you as you go
through your mortal sojourn and navigate this
challenging, wonderful life. In the name of
Jesus Christ, amen.
Notes
1. Letter from the Swedish Council of
the Realm to King Gustav II Adolf; translation quoted in Richard O. Mason, “The
Vasa Capsizes,” virtualschool.edu/mon/
CaseStudies/Vasa/vasa.html. Many accounts
of the Vasa exist; see, for instance, vasamuseet.
se/en for history and other links.
2. Frederic W. Farrar, The Life of Christ
(London: Cassell and Company, 1874; reprint,
Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1994), 416; see also
John 8:31–32.
3. See Robert I. Eaton and Henry J. Eyring,
I Will Lead You Along: The Life of Henry B. Eyring
(Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2013), 405–6.
4. Eaton and Eyring, I Will Lead You Along,
409.
5. Marion G. Romney, “The Celestial Nature
of Self-Reliance,” Ensign, November 1982, 93.
6. Johan Ludvig Runeberg, “Högt Bland
Saarijärvis Moar” [“High Among Saarijärvi
Moor,” also called “Farmer Paavo” or “The
Peasant Paavo”], in Eemil Nestor Setälä, Viljo
Tarkiainen, Vihtori Laurila, eds., Suomen
Kansalliskirjallisuus [Finnish National Literature]:
Valikoima Suomen Kirjallisuuden Huomattavimpia
Tuotteita, vol. 9, Juhana Ludvig Runeberg ja
Sakari Topelius (Helsinki: Kustannusosakeyhtiö
Otava, 1941), 50–52; see sv.wikisource.org/
wiki/författare:Johan_Ludvig_Runeberg. The
­translation from Runeberg’s original Swedish
is mine.